The Company We Keep
by FishShips
Summary: During the events of "The Evil We Love," Robert Lightwood makes a different choice about his parabatai in the year 1984. Michael Wayland becomes a pillar of the Lightwood's lives as the events of The Mortal Instruments come to pass.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hello. This is FishShips, back from a very long fanfiction hiatus. This fic was inspired by Cassie Clare's "The Evil We Love," part of the Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy collection. It actually starts from a specific part of that short story, so, and this is just a suggestion, you may want to read that before starting this fic. Anyways, I am clearly not Cassandra Clare, and this all belongs to her. So , without further ado, the fic.**

"They'll think you're disgusting."  
"Like you do?"

A voice at the back of Robert's mind said, _Stop_.

It said, _This is your last chance_.

But it said so very quietly. He almost missed it.

It took Robert time to gather his thoughts, and even longer for him to turn them into words.

"Like Valentine will. Like only I won't."  
"He doesn't."

Michael said the words with such conviction that Robert took another step back. Michael looked up at him with a mixture of fear and pity. The expression was foreign to Robert; it didn't belong on his parabatai's face.

Michael continued slowly.  
"He knows, has known, how I feel. He doesn't think I'm disgusting at all. He actually told me not to tell you. He said that you'd freak out, and that you'd never talk to me again."

The words hit Robert like a slap to the face. In his mind, he could see it clearly. Valentine had caught Michael alone, had come like a friend. ' _I know your secret._ ' He had offered Michael protection from the hatred that he had feared. Valentine made himself the only person Michael could trust.

Valentine was right. He was always right. Robert kept worrying about what would happen if he did just… accept his Michael was. What would Maryse do? What would everyone else think?

Michael whispered something else, and Robert leaned in to catch it.

"I told him he was wrong, though. I told him that you were better than he thought. But, I had to prove it. And now—"  
"I can't… love you, like that."

The words came like gravel from Robert's throat, and though his muscles resisted every movement, he sat back down on the log.

"I know," came the weary reply. "It's just… I just don't want you to think of me differently. I want to keep being your friend. I want to keep talking to you, and doing stupid things, and breaking rules, and everything else. I don't want to be treated like I'm weird, or—"

Words came more quickly now.  
"I already treat you like you're weird. You _are_ weird, Michael. You don't eat bacon, and you actually like Ragnor Fell, and you can literally fall asleep anywhere. You may be the strangest person I know, and you're still my best friend. So, just add another weird Michael fact to the pile, you nutjob. It's not like you can get any stranger."

Robert turned his head to Michael, and saw his friend shaking. Soft laughter diffused the tension, and Michael gave Robert a small smile. Even in the darkness of the forest, he could see how his friend's eyes brightened.

"So, nothing's changing?"  
"Actually, there are a few new rules I'm gonna have to put down."

Michael's face fell before Robert kept talking.

"First, Maryse gets to know that you're in," he stumbled over the words, "in love… with me. Otherwise, she's very protective, and I'm pretty sure that she'd figure it out herself, and then, she would not be happy with either of us. Mainly you."

Michael raised his hand suddenly, his normal inquisitive expression returned.  
"Quick question: Is it just going to be Maryse, or is everyone going to…?"

"First, you're telling Maryse and—"  
"I'm telling her? Why do I have to tell her? She's your girlfriend!"  
"She's also likely going to kill whoever tells her, so…"  
"Wow. Good to know you've got my back."

"Whatever," Robert quipped, "B: I get to rub this whole thing in Valentine's face. He'll be so surprised; I have to see his face."  
"No fair. I wanted to see his face."  
"That's tough. I get to tell him to eat it. After all, he did insult me, not you."  
"Fine. Just tell me where it's going to happen. A Farsighted rune should let me do the rest."  
"You're a creep. You know that, right?"

Michael just shrugged. "It's not often one gets to see Valentine Morgenstern caught off guard."

Robert sighed. If Michael wanted to see Valentine embarrassed, he was going to see it. There wasn't much arguing with his parabatai once he had his mind set on something. Robert had already seen Michael's tunnel vision in action, and he had the scars to prove it. He was not about to try to experience that again.

"It's a deal. Three, you are going to tell me, right now, if this thing with Eliza is real. You can't just lie to her. Because you never hurt me, but you sure as hell could hurt her, even if she is weird."

"I like her," Michael said clearly. "I know that much. I like her, and maybe, I might even love her. But, it's just different from how, you know. So, I'm going to keep dating her. And maybe it'll work out, and maybe it won't. And I'll move on, and I might date someone else. But I am not lying to her. I promise."

"Okay, now I'm just confused. You're in love with me, and I'm a guy."  
"Yes."  
"And now, you're telling me you love Eliza, who's a girl?"  
"Yes."

"Well then, I guess there's a Rule #4. You are going to give me some serious time to get my head around this whole thing. At least a month before we bring this up in detail again."  
"I'll give you a week."  
"Make it three."  
"Two weeks, max."  
"Fine, two weeks it is."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. The moonlight seeped through the thick summer foliage, outlining them both in silver. A cool breeze rustled the trees, and Michael stood up slowly. Robert looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"That's it?" Michael asked.  
"Yeah. Well, at least, that's all I have to say."  
"So is there anything you don't have to say?"  
"There is one thing."

In a fluid motion, Robert slid from the log onto his feet and pinned his friend in a bear hug. Michael struggled fruitlessly to free his arms before surrendering completely. He just gave his parabatai a sly smile.

"I'm not saying you should let go," he started. "But, you are uncomfortably close."  
"Don't care," Robert stated.  
"I didn't mean I was uncomfortable," Michael corrected. "It's just that this could very quickly get uncomfortable for you."

Robert let go instantly, and sat back down on the log.  
"Not funny."  
"I actually thought it was pretty hilarious."  
"That's because you're weird."  
"I think you covered that before," Michael said, sitting down beside his best friend.

"What do you think we should do now? It's really late."  
"We could stay out here. It's warm enough."

Silence filled the darkness, and Michael laid his head on Robert's shoulder. Robert said nothing, and leaned to accommodate him. Michael had done this a thousand times before, and this time was no different. At least, until Michael started to snore. Robert nudged his friend to wakefulness none too gently, just as exhaustion claimed him.

"We should get back to the Academy," Michael yawned. But on the forest floor, Robert was already asleep. In a few seconds, so was he.

 **AN: Never forget to review. I don't expect you to follow or favorite my work unless you want to, but critiques and compliments are something I expect from all my readers. It doesn't have to be much: a line you liked, an out of character moment, something you found sweet, or sucky. Let me know.**

 **Thank you,**

 **FishShips**


	2. Chapter 2

**I was a little busy with my other Shadowhunters fic, but after a 3 week hiatus, it continues. Hopefully the fast forward isn't too shocking.**

 **-FishShips**

New York Institute, 2003

Robert Lightwood collapsed onto his bed. It had been a long night. He and Maryse had pursued a single Eidolon through the city sewers, and found themselves in a den of the things. It had been horrible, trying to fight their way out. And to make it worse, it had been raining, causing the sewers to fill with water and refuse as they crawled back to the surface.

Maryse had gone to shower as soon as they got to the Institute. The rancid puddle that Robert left on their otherwise pristine bedsheets was proof that he had not. To his defense, he had pulled her out of the riptide of sewage. He was very tired and didn't need anything to come between him and a long rest. He nearly swore when he heard the sound of feet in the hallway. Alec, 13, launched himself onto the bed before Robert had time to react, and landed squarely on his father's stomach. The boy had been jumping everywhere since he'd gotten his first Mark. The Agility Rune curling around Alec's forearm bore witness to how quickly he had taken to the Angels' script.

"You smell bad," his son stated bluntly.  
"Excellent deduction, Alec."  
"Did you and Mom kill a demon?"  
"Yes. Actually we killed a lot of demons."  
"Why do you smell bad?"  
"Shouldn't you be training with Jace and Isabelle?"

Alec groaned and rolled off the bed. Robert followed his son with his eyes until the kid rounded the corner into the hall. He figured that his son had been avoiding training for the past hour, worrying about his wellbeing. He was sure that had they been a minute later, Alec would have contacted the Conclave. The kid was way too protective.

—

Alec felt the air rush from his lungs as Jace flipped him onto the stone floor. He glanced at Isabelle, who giggled behind her hand. He scrambled back to his feet, returning to fighting stance. Jace stood only a yard away, looking as though he hadn't just beaten Alec in hand-to-hand combat for the eighteenth consecutive time. He gave Alec a lopsided grin and stepped back.

"Are you gonna quit, yet?"  
Alec rubbed the bruise that was blossoming along his shoulder.  
"Not a chance."

Izzy quickly made her way to the door.

Jace rushed him, fist already aimed at his stomach. Alec sidestepped the punch easily, but Jace's foot hooked his leg, bringing them both to the floor. He rolled backwards to avoid a swift kick and quickly regained his footing. Jace came at him again, this time swinging with his elbow. Alec blocked the blows and closed in on the blond boy. Jace blocked his punches with ease returning with a flurry of jabs. At this point, Alec's body was acting on automatic. While his arms batted aside Jace's punches, his eyes were focused on the boy's face.

Jace had been an unwelcome addition to the Institute, coming to them a year and a half earlier. The boy's father had died, and Maryse was the closest family he had. Alec had found it odd that he hadn't seen Jace at any of the family's gatherings. Maryse had explained that Jace's mother had been her close friend. He hadn't asked any more questions after that.

Eventually, Alec accepted Jace as a member of the family. Jace had quickly proved to be an excellent Shadowhunter. He had surpassed Alec and Isabelle in skill the instant he started training, and even when only Alec could wear the Marks, he knew he couldn't compare. Jace even looked better than he did. His golden blond hair was never messy, even after hours of training. His eyes glittered with a sort of controlled mischief, as if he was planning to break your most valuable possession.

When Jace moved, Alec could see each muscle in his body tense. It was horribly distracting, and in the time it took him to remember that they were fighting, Jace had almost pinned him to the ground once more. Alec's shoulder throbbed with pain, but he pushed Jace forcefully away and got back to his feet. Jace stumbled into the wall before slowly making his way towards to the other Nephilim. He wiped the faintest bit of sweat from above his eyebrow.

"Are you ready to quit, now?"  
"Still no chance."  
"Okay, fine."

Jace bore down on him again, interspersing his attacks with words.

"So, Alec, I've been thinking."

Alec called back as he dodged blows.

"It's dangerous. Don't do it."  
"You don't even know what I was going to say."  
"Whatever it is, it's probably dangerous. I would advise against it."  
"See, this is why I need to ask you this."  
"Fine. What is this pressing question?"

Jace looked him in the eyes.

"I had a thought about doing something, and I want you to do it with me."  
"I swear by the Angel, Jace, if I have to follow you into another one of your insane plans, I will—"  
"It's not anything like that this time. Calm down."  
"Well then, let's not sit around and wait for you to—"

Jace dashed forward and, with a quick kick, knocked his legs out from beneath him.  
"Will you be my parabatai?"

The words were more jarring than the impact. Alec lay on the floor, blinking, for about a minute. He looked at Jace, leaning confidently against a case of swords. He couldn't believe that Jace had just asked _him_ of all people to be his parabatai. It was true that he considered Jace his best friend. Still, parabatai were more than just friends, they were warriors. Alec didn't consider himself to be even half the fighter Jace was. In fact, he had expected Jace to ask Isabelle to be his parabatai. It took serious commitment to deal with Jace, and Alec wasn't sure he would be able to keep up.

"Let me think about it," he said slowly.  
"Oh. Okay."

It was hard to tell with his ears ringing, but he thought he heard a note of desperation in Jace's voice. Regardless, Alec did really need to think on it. He hauled himself into a standing position and made his way to the door. Once out of Jace's sight, he hurried to his room. He kicked aside the old clothing that lay scattered on the floor. He grabbed his stele from his nightstand and drew a careful iratze on the inside of his elbow. He sighed contentedly as the pain faded from his back, and he flopped onto his bed. He weighed the merits of the decisions he could make.

He could accept Jace's offer, and become part of a team with one of the greatest warriors of all time. But, he would be forever in his partner's shadow. His father already seemed to think of Jace as the son he'd always wanted. By becoming Jace's parabatai, he would be confirming his father's opinion.

On the other hand, he could turn Jace down. He would still train with him, of course. But they would be their own people. Jace would become a great Shadowhunter, unfettered by Alec. And Alec wouldn't have to follow that idiot through hell and high water. They both would benefit.

A sudden, loud metallic clanking shook Alec from his thoughts. Someone had just gotten on the elevator lift. He slid carefully from the dark blue sheets and hurried toward the front of the Institute, the sound of grinding gears echoing off of the stone walls. He reached the foyer and ducked behind a table, just in time to watch the grated doors slid open. A tall man strode out calmly, his dark curls and hooded jacket dripping water onto the antique carpet. He yelled into the empty hallways.

"Hey, Robert! I'm here! I need a towel! Did you know it's raining?"

Alec rushed from behind the table to wrap his arms around the man. Michael Wayland froze for a fraction of a second before returning the hug.

"What are you doing here, Uncle Mike?"  
"Official Conclave duties," was the curt reply, "twisted to fit my need to visit my parabatai. On that train of thought, where's your dad?"  
"He's asleep, I think. And he smells awful. He and mom just got home from a nest of demons. I just finished training, though. You could stay in my room."  
"Thanks, Al. Lead the way."

Michael bowed low, raising his eyebrows comically. Alec tried to choke down a laugh, but it escaped nonetheless. He loped to his room, Michael following two steps behind. As he opened his door, he wondered what his uncle would think of the piles of clothes that dotted the landscape of his room. He was surprised when Michael sauntered in and sat down on a pile of t-shirts that he had forgotten to fold, closing the door behind him.

"So," Michael said, looking at no one in particular, "has anything interesting happened, Al? It's been at least a year since I last saw you. You hit me with nunchaku. Please tell me you gave those up. You're not good with them. Have you tried archery? Have you tried shrimp gumbo? It's good."

"I did stop with the nunchaku, thank you for your faith in me. And maybe I will try and learn how to use a bow. In terms of things that are actually important…"

He sat down on the floor facing his father's friend, and spread his palms. He debated telling Michael about what had just happened with Jace. Becoming parabatai was a fairly personal decision, but Michael had always had a good sense of when things were off anyways. It was odd that his uncle couldn't hold a straightforward conversation for his life, yet could understand others with ease. It was just another gift that Alec didn't have.

"Jace asked me to be his parabatai."  
"Do it."

The response was immediate. Michael looked at him with a seriousness that Alec hadn't seen in years. The last time his uncle had worn that face, his father had nearly lost his arm to a Behemoth demon. Alec didn't consider his situation to be that serious, but apparently it was. He was officially overwhelmed. He buried his face in his hands, and refused to look up.

"Hey, kid. It's okay. You do know what it means when someone asks you to be their parabatai, right?"

Alec nodded silently. Parabatai were a pair of warriors held together by bonds of angelic runes and camaraderie. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he relaxed the slightest fraction.

"Good. Someone asking you to be their parabatai is basically like them asking you to carry half of their weapons, or half of their food, or half of their books. And then you give them half of your clothes, and half of your electronic appliances, and the like. Except instead of weapons or food, it's their heart. And instead of eating it or using it to slay demons, you use it to… actually you do use it to slay demons, but mainly you try to keep them safe."

"They're saying that you're their better half. It means that you have in yourself the myriad qualities that they lack. For example, you lack organization. Unless Jace has changed drastically in the past year, he's a paragon of order when it comes to his living quarters. I've been told I don't make any sense. Your father is possibly the most logical man I have ever met. Balance. Best decision of my life."

Cautiously, Alec brought his hands away from his face. Michael still sat across from him, which was confusing because the hand on his shoulder hadn't gone away. He looked up quickly and slammed his head into Jace's thigh. The boy wore a sheepish grin in place of his usual smugness, his expression unguarded for the first time.

"Well, it's your choice."  
"I'll do it, you idiot."

 **That's it for this chapter. I'm trying to make sure that the events of canon still happen with only the one change. It's kind of odd, I must admit. Which is why you should let me know if I'm doing a good job. Review please, and also favorite or follow if you really like it that much.**

 **See you next chapter,**

 **FishShips**


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